


Lonely Star

by keithyourpal



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Bottom Lotor (Voltron), Galra Keith (Voltron), Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Pre-Canon, Soul Bond, Top Shiro (Voltron), Twins, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-03-21 23:40:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13751622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keithyourpal/pseuds/keithyourpal
Summary: Takashi's death brings Ryou and Keith together, and in the following year they help each other make peace and rebuild their lives--until Keith goes missing.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been on my back burner for well over a year and I'm pleased that it's finally shaping up enough for me to start posting. I loved Josh Keaton's headcanon that Shiro was raised by a grandfather so I added it in.
> 
> Also, abo.
> 
> I'm still working on all of my other fics. I just have to bounce from project to project in order to get progress done on any of them! :B

  
  


The hardest part was how everyone looked at Ryou and saw Takashi instead.

He met the eyes of every cadet and officer whose hand he shook. Few of them would stare directly back. The ones who did were slow to look away, as people often were whenever they met the twins for the first time. For most of their lives they were always together, side by side, which inevitably lead to the same tired remark of _Oh, are you twins? You look exactly alike!_

As repetitive as it was, after a certain point in childhood they grew resigned to being mistaken for one another. Since they went their separate ways after graduating high school, things were different. No one at the Galaxy Garrison had ever known Ryou for himself. He was just an imposter, a jarring reminder of the comrade they had lost. He could only be compared to his brother and never the other way around.

For the first time, he heard one other thing repeated enough times to make him sick:

“I didn’t know Shiro had a brother.”

Ryou felt like a statue, held in place through no will of his own, here only for the benefit of those who looked upon him. Maybe if their grandfather were still alive this would be easier. Instead he was left to deal with Takashi’s death and memorial alone, with no idea of how he was supposed to carry on after the ceremony was over and the crowd of Garrison personnel were all gone.

An officer who introduced himself as Iverson. Cadets who talked about what Takashi had done for them, had meant to them at school. A beta woman who introduced herself as Mrs. Holt before embracing him silently; he recognized her name. Her husband and son were also on the Kerberos mission.

“This is my daughter, Katie,” Mrs. Holt said after she pulled away. The young girl next to her shrugged, not looking up from her phone where she was furiously typing away. “Katie, please . . .”

“It’s fine,” Ryou said, and he meant it. “We all deal with things differently.”

After the Holts moved on, another cadet stepped forward. He said nothing in response to Ryou’s tired greeting, just looked him dead in the eye. There, Ryou saw burning resentment for each of the small things that differentiated him from Takashi, like the mole on his chin and his longer hair, neatly styled back for the service in a way that made him feel like a stranger in his own body. 

He kept his hand out anyway, waiting for the cadet to take it or say something or just move on like everyone else had, not knowing what else to do as instead they continued to stare at each other as if in a standstill. Until, with a horrible chill as he took in the cadet’s slender face and thin pink lips, Ryou remembered.

“You’re Keith,” he said, feeling his hand drop like a dead weight to his side. This could not be happening. “Takashi, ah . . . he mentioned you a few times.”

_I found a video of you on his tablet and now I know what your dick and your O-face and your everything looks like._

His brother was dead, his brother was _dead_ , and now Ryou was meeting his brother’s boyfriend and had seen his dick and his O-face and his everything, and he wanted to laugh but he couldn’t. He couldn’t, even though this was the first real emotion he had been able to feel since an officer came to his apartment to break the news about the Kerberos mission’s failure. About Takashi’s failure.

_Pilot error._

Underneath the Garrison’s standard-issue scent blocker, Ryou could detect a hint of Keith’s natural, balmy omega scent leaking through. Even that little bit stood out from the crowd lined up behind Keith, which may have explained the slight berth that was politely widening between him and the next person in line.

“He did?” Keith said, eyes widening.

Just like that, Ryou felt like he had been shot, like his lungs were punctured. The past week had been the hardest of his life. The rest of it could pass him by, decade after decade, and Takashi’s absence would always feel like a phantom pain, like some vital part of him had been ripped away and all he could do was wait and wait and wait in vain for him to come back, so he could be whole again.

But, as Ryou glanced around to avoid Keith’s earnest gaze, he had to accept that they were all grieving, all these strangers who had been part of Takashi’s life in a way he himself never had. The angry voice in his voice that felt possessive, like no one else could come close to feeling as bereft as him, that no one could truly know and love Takashi like he did, was now mute.

He was Takashi’s brother, and he was also an alpha in his own right. It was equal parts his sense of duty and his damnable weakness to those big violet eyes that made him decide he needed to pick up where his brother left off.

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Keith eyed him up and down, his face tightening. “I didn’t know Shiro had a brother.”

For some reason, hearing that now made Ryou smile, if only a bit. “It must have slipped his mind.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Yeah . . . there’s a lot I wish we could do over.”

“I know what you mean.” Keith tucked his chin into the collar of his uniform. He lingered for a few beats, as if wanting to say something else. Instead he shuffled away so the next person could give finally Ryou their condolences.

Ryou kept him in sight for the rest of the service, unsure of what he wanted to do but determined to not do nothing. He pushed through the crowd as the service wound down and people began to gather together in preparation to leave, fighting his way through officers who wanted to leave him with food or talk some more about Takashi. He found Keith outside on the steps, loosening his collar. He jumped when Ryou put a hand on his shoulder.

“Sorry,” Ryou said, out of breath. “I just--let me give you my number. You have a phone?”

Keith eyed him warily before bringing his cell phone out and passing it over. His lockscreen and wallpaper were both innocuous pictures of the desert at first glance; a second look at the wallpaper revealed a small Takashi standing off in the distance, laughing against the glare of the sun with most of his body obscured by strategically placed apps. Ryou swiped away, trying to put Takashi from his mind as he input his number.

He handed the phone back and grasped Keith’s hand with both of his own. “Call me if you need anything, Keith.” he said. “Please. Anything at all.”

“Sure,” Keith said. He glanced back as a charter bus pulled up alongside the curb. “I will.”

Ryou was ushered back inside before he could watch the bus leave. The great weight bearing down his chest felt a little lighter now that he had something--someone--he could think of after today was over. It wouldn’t bring Takashi back but for now it was enough.

  


\-----

  


Two weeks later Ryou was on his lunch break when he got a text. Cramming the last bit of his sandwich into his mouth, he checked and saw Keith's number.

The omega had been on his mind intermittently since the memorial, mostly whenever Ryou had a spare moment from the extra work he’d been throwing himself. His job at the campus library carried on like usual, save for the fact that the Kerberos mission was international news. 

Students he didn’t know know and people who didn’t even go to school here knew him as “that dead astronaut’s brother.” Journalists had been approaching him, news outlets wanted interviews, and photographers stalked him along his daily commute, as if they hadn’t already beaten the story to death.

The only reason he didn’t stay shuttered up in his apartment, as much as he wanted to, was because they all knew where he lived, and were waiting to stick a camera and mic in his face and ask _just a few questions, how do you feel?_ any time they got him in their sights. Hiding in the backroom of the library gave him some semblance of peace.

He needed to get away. Going to see Keith would be good for him. For both of them.

Keith wanted to meet him at a cafe that weekend, a quiet place close to the Garrison. Ryou started making preparations at once so he could leave by the end of the day. Flying would be faster but driving would give him a few days of solitude and peace. He swung by his apartment long enough to grab an armful of clothes and toiletries to throw in the backseat, then he was on his way.

He arrived in Plaht City that Saturday a couple of hours before dusk. The neighborhood was packed with bars and an eclectic selection of restaurants. He found the cafe nestled between a bike shop and a Thai fusion place. The inside was dim and cramped, its walls decorated with vintage traffic signs that looked like they’d be scavenged from antique stores or maybe the local dump. Soft, off-vocal music played, filling the small space with a calm ambience that made him nervous.

He ordered a drink and hovered near the bar while he waited. He spotted Keith through the back door window. The omega was sitting outside on the back courtyard, red booted legs propped up on a spare chair. A beat-up duffel bag and what looked like a bedroll were tucked under the table.

He also noticed that Keith was no longer in uniform, instead wearing drab black jeans and an oversized gray vest. As soon as Ryou stepped outside he stopped short. Keith’s natural scent was much stronger now than it was at the memorial, as if he had foregone the scent blockers entirely. The memory of the video Ryou saw on Takashi’s tablet came rushing back.

To his shock, he realized he was beginning to salivate and sweat in response. He slapped a hand over his mouth and tried to pass it off as a cough as he pulled back a chair. 

Keith’s head snapped up, glaring for a split second before he realized it was Ryou and set his feet back on the ground. He had a plate with a barely touched croissant set to one side of the table old wrinkled map spread before him that he hastily folded back up, shoving into the pocket of his vest.

“Hey,” Ryou said as he set down his drink. “You off duty?”

An immediate landmine. Keith flinched at the question before answering. “No, actually. They kicked me out.”

“ _What?_ ” After the incident with the tablet, Ryou had done some research on the sly, curious about this Kogane guy that Takashi was so reluctant to tell him about. He discovered that Keith was something of a piloting prodigy, if the bits of news he found were to believed. 

There was a sensationalist tone about the “tragic genius orphan” angle one particular article had on the matter that, in the present, resembled how the news was trying to spin Takashi’s story. Ryou didn’t know what Keith must have gone through when he joined the Garrison, and it stung more than a little to think about how Takashi hadn’t wanted to tell him.

All that aside, it sounded as thought Keith genuinely had a natural gift. Why the Garrison would let it go, especially now, was beyond him. “Why? What happened?”

Keith picked at his croissant. He just shrugged.

“Keith. I know we’re pretty much strangers but this is . . . you can tell me.”

Keith hesitated. “They . . . they had us do rescue simulations.” His hands began to rub back and forth over the sides of his jeans, like a tic. “I . . . it was hard. I couldn’t--it was just a joke. Just a stupid joke. It made me so mad. What was the point?” 

The rubbing intensified. “There wasn't an actual rescue mission on the table. They said it was a failure. So what--were they just trying to use him as a warning? Like nothing else he ever did for the Garrison mattered? That he was just some--some _fuck up_ for them to be ashamed of?”

Ryou set a hand on top of Keith’s, stilling him. He waited to see if Keith would allow the touch; Keith did not relax, but he didn’t deck Ryou across the courtyard either, so Ryou continued on carefully. He pressed his thumb into one of Keith’s wrists to stimulate the scent gland there. The faint scent of marjoram sharpened ever so slightly.

Scent-marking was not something he did often. This kind of touch was intimate and personal, for family and pack bonding, for lovers. The last time Ryou had done this had been, well . . . it had been a while ago. 

The tension in Keith’s body finally lessened just a bit, almost reluctantly. Before long he pulled his arm away, and Ryou let him.

“Shiro used to do that,” Keith said, crossing his arms. “Not a lot, though. We weren’t open about our relationship.”

“I’ve been wondering about that. Was there a reason?”

“I guess ‘cause I’m--’cause I was just a cadet, and he was _Shiro_. Y’know? Even if nothing was against the rules, people would still talk. I didn’t mind not having the attention, honestly. It was better that way.”

He rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously, tousling up the long locks of his silky black hair, and the low collar of his vest exposed something that was previously hidden from view: a mating claim, faded enough to not be brand new but pink enough to stand out from his pale skin and dark hair.

Keith glanced sidelong at him, noticing his silence. “What’s wrong?”

“You tell me,” Ryou said. His voice trembled with something, he didn’t know what. Shock? Anger? “Is that what I think it is?”

“Is what--oh, fuck.” Keith dropped his hand and his hair fell back down against his neck. His scent spiked, laced with fear, anxiety. But his expression remained resolute.

When had the claim been made? Was this why Takashi wanted to keep their relationship a secret? His head spun with all the possibilities, none of which he could reasonably say was more likely than any other. Had this entire affair with Keith been a mistake, then?

Ryou thought of the video uncomfortably, and reasoned that at least that couldn’t be the case. No, he could at least believe that their relationship was genuine, and that perhaps Takashi had just given Keith a claiming mark in the heat of the moment.

He buried his head in his hands. “Christ, Keith. If there’s anything else I should know about you just go ahead and tell me now. I don’t know how many more surprises and secrets I can take.”

At the lack of response he lifted his head and picked up his now-cold coffee, deciding he needed a pick-me-up. Just as he took a sip, Keith spoke.

“I’m pregnant.”

Every head in the vicinity turned as Ryou choked and spluttered on his drink, dropping his mug. It shattered on the courtyard tile, sloshing spectacularly on his thighs and drenching his shoes.

“I’m f-fine,” he managed between coughs when Keith half-rose out of his chair with a wad of napkins in each hand. “Just-- _holy fuck_ , just give me a--a minute. Christ.”

The news went against everything Ryou thought he knew about Takashi. Takashi, the golden boy of the Galaxy Garrison, tragic national hero, his twin brother, his best friend, the person he loved and trusted more than anyone else in the universe--had illicitly mated and knocked up a cadet before getting himself killed on a moon at the farthest edge of the galaxy.

Ryou wanted to ask, “ _Did he know?_ ” and stopped himself just short, because of course he hadn’t. If he had known, the Kerberos mission would have had a different pilot. Takashi was not perfect, but he always shouldered the responsibility of his choices. If he had known, he would be the one telling this to Ryou, not his widowed, freshly expelled omega.

“You’re . . . sure?” he asked instead, heart pounding in his throat. There was still a chance it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true.

But Keith nodded. “Believe me. I’m positive.”

Ryou didn't know enough about him to judge how he felt about all this. From his perspective, this had to be a frightening position to be in. All he knew was to offer, “You should come stay with me. I’d be happy to have you.”

Before he even finished speaking, Keith was already shaking his head in adamant refusal.

“It’s what Takashi would want,” Ryou insisted. Not true, he thought. None of this was what Takashi would want. He would want to be here for his family.

Keith shifted in his chair. “Not yet. I have something I need to do.”

“Do you have somewhere to stay?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry about me. I’ll keep in touch.”

And he was off, slinging his bedroll and duffel bag over his shoulder and disappearing into the cramped cafe, leaving Ryou sitting in the courtyard with cold coffee soaking into his pants before he could come up with a protest. Too many eyes were on him, either from his outburst or the fact that he was a spitting image of their deceased local hero, or whatever Takashi had meant to these people.

He booked a room in a local hotel and took a long, scalding shower, unable to keep himself from worrying about where Keith would go and what he would do now that he was out of the Garrison, angry at his own inability to help, to provide Keith with anything. Takashi had made the decision to not tell Ryou anything about Keith, and a fat lot of good it was doing them now that he was gone. 

He regretted the thought as he dried off and pulled on his sweatpants. Of course Takashi hadn’t left him on purpose. Neither had Grandpa. But things were different then; Grandpa was an old sick man, and Ryou and Takashi were together when he passed away, content with his long life and the fact that both of his grandsons were young and healthy.

No, he didn’t wish Grandpa was here to see this, like he had at the memorial. All he wanted now was a long night’s sleep and for Keith to keep his promise.


	2. Chapter 2

  


Ryou spent the next two weeks scanning in images for the library. Mary Anne, the head librarian, carted in several giant stacks of old reference books and left him to it. It was dull, quiet work. Physical books were relics of the past, and all of the most-needed ones for their campus were long since cataloged and archived. 

He understood this and did as he was directed anyway. He wanted to be able to work as normal, however much his coworkers tried to get him to take time off.

Their grandmother's death was the first time he had ever had to deal with the loss of a family member, and as difficult as it was, it hadn’t been like this. The cancer gave them all a few months’ time to prepare. Seeing her body one last time before it was cremated had given him, Takashi, and their grandfather some kind of closure. And when their grandfather passed away last year, he and Takashi had still had each other 

With Takashi's death, everything was different. Everything was wrong. He was so young, with a life yet to be lived, and without a body to burn his absence just felt like it always had since the launch, and that any minute now Ryou would receive word he was coming home.

So, he scanned in ever page from dozens of old textbooks over the course of the two weeks, only taking breaks when Mary Anne glared at him from her office door. Even before the Kerberos disaster he had always to himself, preferring to listen rather than talk, and after the first few days his coworkers stopped trying to get him to open up or go home by being overly nice.

When his phone rang he almost knocked the scanner over in his haste to answer. He had blocked every unknown number that contacted him since the memorial and even most of his friends, just to get some peace. Keith’s name flashed in his alerts, and suddenly everything else ceased to matter.

“Hey!” Ryou scooted back from his desk and away from his coworkers' curious stares at how chipper he sounded. “I can be on the road tonight, be there in a few days.”

“Why don’t you just fly?”

“Heights make me sick.”

There was a beat as Keith drew in a breath, taken aback. Then he laughed, and kept laughing.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I almost had a heart attack when Takashi decided he wanted to be a fucking pilot. A in _space_.”

“Wow,” Keith said, chuckling a little more. “This weekend works fine for me. I’ll text you directions.”

Ryou got up from his chair and left the office, jogging over to a nearby self-study room. Once he was alone he asked more seriously, “Are you doing okay? I mean with, y’know . . . with the baby.”

The line fell quiet. As alien and terrifying as the prospect of a baby was for Ryou, he couldn’t imagine what it must be like for Keith.

“Keith? You there?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I . . . I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

Ryou lowered his voice as a group of students walked by outside. “Have you been to a doctor yet?”

“No.”

Ryou shut his eyes, trying to calculate how much time had passed. The memorial was three weeks ago. The launch had been two months before that. Keith must be well over three months along and ideally should have seen a gynecologist before now.

“Well,” Ryou said, “we can figure that stuff out when I get there. Is that okay with you?”

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Alright. I’ll see you then.”

After hanging up, Ryou returned to his desk and looked over the mountain of dusty books he still had left to scan.

“Going somewhere?”

“Jesus!”

Mary Anne leaned against the side of his desk, fixing him in a hard stare. Her scent as a beta was so neutral it was nearly indiscernible, letting her sneak up with ease. In spite of his precautions, she must have heard his conversation. Campus lore had it that her hearing was almost superhuman, which made her efficient at rooting out undergrads when they tried getting frisky in the study rooms, or eavesdropping when her employees used their phones on the clock.

“You asked me to let you keep working, so I don’t want you changing your mind and quitting halfway through.” Her expression softened. “But I also know this must be hard on you, Ryou.”

This was the kind of sympathy he never knew how to take. He tried not to squirm, unsure of where to look or what to say.

“Go on,” she said. “But keep in mind what you’ll have left to do when you get back.”

“I will. Thanks.”

He jogged through the library and out to his car. He could leave for Keith’s place directly from here; since they met up at the cafe, he kept a packed suitcase in the trunk. Anything else he could pick up along the way.

The solitary journey was less soothing this time. Now he found himself impatient and antsy as he drove for hours on end, stopping only for gas or food or to find someplace to sleep. He wanted to _be_ there already.

Once he got to Plaht City he kept driving, eventually passing by the Garrison base. Off in the distance he could see the airfield. His stomach lurched at the sight. He turned the radio up so he could think of something else.

Keith’s directions led him on a two-hour trek through the middle of the desert that his pre-owned sedan was never meant to undertake. Two hours away from the nearest semblance of civilization. Two hours Ryou spent drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, praying that his car wouldn’t break down, and wondering what the hell Keith thought he was doing all the way out here. 

He glimpsed a speck on the horizon and finally, thankfully his destination came into view: a tiny ramshackle house with a sloped lean-to affixed to one side. He parked out front and honked his horn. No response. Knocking on the door yielded the same result.

He threw himself down on the dilapidated front steps and squinted up against the glare of the late afternoon sun. The air was hot and dry, with a grit he could taste. Ryou supposed that after being at the Garrison, maybe Keith was just used to the oppressive heat and isolation, and that a city boy like him was born and bred to miss the appeal. Or maybe the desert was just an awful, miserable place and Keith needed to be shaken to his senses whenever he decided to show up.

Around half an hour later a low rumble woke Ryou from his heat-induced stupor. As the sound gradually swelled he could also make out a faint mechanical whir. Coming around to the back of the shack, he saw a great cloud of dirt making its way toward him with a red blob hovering above the ground that eventually materialized into Keith sitting atop a sleek hoverbike.

Ryou covered his ears and closed his eyes as the whooshing grew to a thunderous roar, only peeking out when the sound and wind died down and he could see that the bike had set down, coming to a rest. As it made contact with the earth its rider dismounted, tugging down the burgundy bandana from around the lower half of his face.

Keith was covered in dirt and flecks of rock. The soles of his boots were caked in it and his hair had a powdery orange layer that flung everywhere when he shook his head. He pulled his gloves off and shook them as he came up the front steps, pouring out still more dirt.

“What have you been _doing_?” Ryou asked incredulously. “How long were you out there?”

“A few hours, I think. I’ve been checking out some caves.”

“By yourself?”

Keith stopped, key in hand, and gave Ryou an indignant look over his shoulder. “Yes?” he said, with a note of genuine confusion. With a small click he opened the door and trudged inside. “Don’t exactly have any neighbors out here.”

“That’s dangerous. You’re _pregnant_.”

“Are you coming in or what?”

The shack had a single room. There was a mini fridge in one corner, a futon pushed against the wall under the window, a makeshift table made from a board and cinder blocks, a radio, and some posters from the Garrison tacked up. The wall opposite the window and futon had handwritten notes and print-outs pinned up in a messy arrangement. 

Ryou inspected a flyer. It was a picture of a cave wall with faded markings. The other notes had similar photographs and descriptions of the area. Behind all of the mess was a giant map of the area that had dry-erase marker scribbles noting down different locations.

Running around the desert to track down cave paintings was certainly the farthest thing from piloting that Ryou could think of. It was also dangerous and stupid in too many ways, namely that out here, Keith had no one to rely on if something went wrong and he got hurt.

“What are you looking for?” Ryou asked.

“Nothing,” Keith said evasively.

Ryou didn’t drive all the way here to be _lied to_ , and for a moment he was furious. He sat himself on the futon and tried to calm down, to put himself in Keith’s shoes. He might be Takashi’s brother but he was still little more than a stranger. Keith didn’t owe him an explanation, as nice as it would be to have one so his mind would stop running through scenarios of all the horrible things that could happen to Keith while investigating caves on his own.

Keith tossed him a water bottle before kicking off his boots, peeling off his jacket, and stretching out his legs. Ryou gulped it all down and squeezed the empty bottle, trying to fight against his instinct to meddle, or hoist Keith over his shoulder and take him back to town.

“How long are you going to be running around looking at these caves?” he asked instead. “Just be honest with me. Please.

“Until I get done.”

Ryou felt like screaming. He forced himself to ask calmly, “With what?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Keith said, visibly annoyed at the incessant prodding. “And I don’t know how long it will take me.”

“So you’re just going to stay out here until you think you’re finished--even if it takes you, what, six months? A year?” Ryou asked, his voice rising in spite of himself. “Have you even thought about the baby at all?”

“Of course I have!” Keith snapped, turning his own bottle over in his hands. “You think I haven't?”

“All I know is that you've been running around the desert doing whatever _this_ is--" Ryou gestured at the wall of photographs "--when you haven't even bothered to see a doctor yet! What do you _think_ I'm gonna think?"

Keith glowered, a similar resentment burning on his face like it had at the memorial. There was no trace of the sweet omega from Takashi's video. He bared his teeth, scent souring in a mixture of anger and, Ryou noticed with confusion, _fear_.

Ryou didn't come here to fight. He also didn't come here to find Keith doing whatever _this_ was, that was somehow so much more important than taking care of himself.

More than anything, all he could think about was how this wasn’t what Takashi would want to happen to them.

“Ryou . . .” The futon dipped underneath Keith’s weight as he down beside Ryou and awkwardly patted him on the shoulder. A tension still crackled between them, evident in the air

Ryou exhaled shakily. “Will it go faster if I help you?”

He sat up and turned to face Keith. Keith was staring back behind them at the grimy dust-covered window, where the sun was beginning to set. He nodded absently, and Ryou supposed that was all the answer he was going to get.

“I’m gonna stay here and help you with whatever it is you’re trying to do, and then I want you to come back to my place. You need to see a doctor. Okay?”

Keith’s eyes were still wandering, looking around the shack. Not at the wall with all the photographs and notes, but at the other things he had lying around, like a weathered recruitment poster for the Garrison on the wall,, a dagger in a leather sheath placed on the makeshift table beside a nylon bag, all the little things that made this place look like a dump to Ryou that must make it look like home to Keith.

“You can bring this stuff with you,” he said. “Just . . . just work with me. Okay?”

“Okay,” Keith said. “Okay.”


	3. Chapter 3

Ryou woke before dawn with a stiff pain centered in his lower back. The floorboards of Keith’s shack were dusty and uneven, and had creaked every time he adjusted himself in his sleeping bag over the course of the night. He was sure more than a few spiders must have crawled over him while he tried to sleep. Craning his neck slowly, he blinked up at the futon where Keith’s foot hung over the edge and dangled just above his face.

His joints popped and cracked as he sat up. All in all, he honestly had less comfortable nights in grad school, and it was odd for there to be absolute, unbroken silence until morning. He wouldn’t say it was peaceful, necessarily. Just different. New.

Before too long Keith also roused, grunting as he stretched out and almost kicked Ryou in the face.

“G’mornin’,” Keith mumbled, flexing his toes.

Ryou looked around the corner by the door where Keith’s microwave was stacked on top of his mini fridge. He he known what little Keith kept here, he would have stopped for groceries before making the long trek out here. He peered hungrily into the mini fridge and was horrified to see just two eggs, a stick of butter, and a half-empty yogurt cup that had turned an unhealthy shade of bluish black.

“Do you want eggs or….eggs?” he asked right as Keith leaned over the side of the futon and threw up on his sleeping bag.

Outside behind the shack, Ryou rinsed his sleeping bag off with the weak trickle from the spigot, ignoring the pain still shooting up his back. The sooner he got Keith to finish his wild cave adventure, the sooner they could be back to civilization with a proper shower, a proper bed, and a proper everything.

“Sorry,” Keith said from around the corner, his voice raw. Ryou had heard him retching again out front and forced himself to focus on scrubbing his sleeping bag, instead of on how many mornings Keith must have woken up by himself and been sick. No, no, no. He needed to suppress his instinct to nag.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s just natural,” Ryou said, turning off the water and holding up his sleeping bag. He followed Keith back to the front and hung it over the half-collapsed fence by the tree, figuring it would be aired out once the afternoon sun came up. “We can go out later in the day if you aren’t feeling up to it right now.”

He looked around, and saw Keith was already mounting the hoverbike. He wasn’t wearing a helmet or knee pads or anything except for his bandana. Ryou felt all sense of indignation crumple as he wordlessly clambered up behind Keith.

“So I’m guessing there aren’t any seatbelts on this thing,” he grumbled as he tried to get situated. The narrow seat poked him in all sorts of uncomfortable places.

He heard Keith chuckle and say, “Nope,” just as he revved up. The bike shot up off the ground and sped off in a split second; the only thing that kept Ryou from toppling off the back was his reflex to grab hold of Keith’s slim waist with an iron grip.

He pressed his face into the back of Keith’s narrow shoulder, feeling the dry wind whip and roar around them. He didn’t dare try to peek around at the landscape as they sped off into the desert, afraid that either high velocity debris or his own motion sickness would do him in. Every time his butt lifted off the seat he stifled a scream into Keith’s hair, afraid that soon the dam would break and he’d be the one throwing up.

He had no sense of how long it took them to arrive at the first cave. The hoverbike glided to a smooth stop; as soon as it touched the ground Ryou felt himself slide sideways and collapse to his knees on the hot, packed dirt. His hair stuck up in odd directions and everything from the waist down hurt.

Keith laughed again as he tugged his bandana down from his face. “You weren’t kidding about the heights thing,” he said, holding out a hand to help Ryou up.

“Did you ever take Takashi out for rides like this?”

The question slipped out before he could think. Ryou tensed up, feeling like he’d made things awkward again after they’d just made up--but Keith nodded, still gripping his hand.

“Yeah. Sometimes,” he said. When he didn’t elaborate Ryou let the topic and his hand go, looking instead toward the mouth of the cave. Keith walked ahead of him, his steps sure. “Watch your head.”

Ryou looked at the big KEEP OUT sign Keith parked the bike beside, and sighed as he follow the omega into the cave. “Did you bring any gear with you?”

“No. I’m just interested in the wall paintings. For the ones I can’t get into I just look up articles online and see if I can find any pictures.”

A few steps in, Ryou was surprised to see faded paintings similar to the ones in Keith’s photographs, although on second glance he could see these weren’t ones he’d already taken pictures of.

“How did you find these?” Ryou asked. He kneeled down and touched the cave wall just below one of the paintings, feeling the dry earth crumble against his fingertips. Keith didn’t respond. He set his bag down and rummaged through it, pulling out an old-fashioned camera and set about taking pictures. Eventually he made his way to the painting Ryou was crouched in front of and lowered his camera.

“See that?” he said, pointing. Amidst the crude figures that looked like people was a large blue beast, somewhat feline in shape, like a mountain lion.

“Yeah. What about it?”

“I don’t know. But it keeps showing up.” Keith stepped back and took another picture. “And I can’t find explanations for it apart from some modern theories. It’s strange.”

 _This_ was what he’d been doing?

Over the course of the day Ryou learned that there was a bit more to it than that. Keith took him around to several more caves, both ones he’d visited before and new ones he hadn’t. A few required him to squeeze through narrow passageways to get where he wanted. Some of the caves had no paintings, leaving him with banged up elbows and knees and Ryou with frayed nerves.

More often than not Ryou ended up waiting alone outside of a narrow wedge in the wall that he was too big to fit through, left wondering how he was going to explain this to the authorities in the event Keith got stuck somewhere.

The only positive thing he could come up with was that it was better that Keith was doing this nonsense now, before he got a baby bump. It was such a small comfort that Ryou couldn’t stop worrying whenever Keith went quiet for too long.

When Keith emerged from the last narrow hole of the day, orange and sweaty from head to foot, and declared he was done, Ryou felt like tucking him under his arm like a football and beating a path back to the shack.

“Just for today,” Keith added, poking a big hole in the fantasy. “There’s still more to look at.”

“ _More_ holes?”

“You’re the one who offered to stick around.”

They spent five more days investigating caves in the desert. On his end Ryou looked up articles on his tablet or made addendums to Keith’s notes, while Keith crawled around in the dirt and took pictures. In the evenings Keith compiled each day’s findings onto his wall, mumbling to himself as he rearranged photos and put up more sticky notes while Ryou crashed on the futon.

On the last afternoon they stopped by the shack just long enough for Ryou to grab his things. Strangely, Keith decided to leave almost everything behind, including his hoverbike. All he brought was the clothes on his back and the knife he kept in the sheath at his side.

“You sure you don’t want to bring anything else? What about your bike?” Ryou asked as they drove off toward the sunset, bumping along the pitiful road that cut through the desert.

“One of my dad’s friends owns the land. He’ll keep an eye on the place while I’m gone.” Keith propped his cheek up against his palm and looked out the window, rolling it down a crack.

His dad. Ryou learned Keith was an orphan when he looked him up all those months ago, after the incident with Takashi’s tablet. He wondered if Takashi knew all of this, and what he could have possibly said or done to make someone as tight-lipped as Keith trust him so much.

There was no point worrying about it now. There was a lot he would never get to know about his brother now. After that, the drive was quiet. Keith fiddled with the radio for a bit, turning from one channel to another before switching it off entirely. Ryou though Keith must have dozed off until, just after sunset, he heard him mumble something.

“What’s that?”

“You weren’t at the launch.”

Ryou’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “What about it?”

“I guess . . . I mean, the rest of the Holt family was there. But you weren’t. Takashi never even told me about you. Did you guys not get along?”

“I _love_ my brother,” Ryou snapped. “ . . . I loved him. I just thought. . . I thought he would come back.”

At the time Takashi asked if Ryou wanted to be there. Ryou remembered the conversation clearly--a quick back-and-forth over text. It hadn’t seemed like a big decision to make. _Nah, take Keith instead ;)_

He couldn’t say if he regretted it or not. The last time he saw Takashi in person was on their birthday, just a month before the launch. That was when he first learned about Keith. He thought Takashi would be up in space for six months tops, that he would miss his boyfriend more than the brother he’d been attached to at the hip for two decades. And now he didn’t know what to think.

Keith couldn’t know any of that. Ryou had to keep reminding himself, and it was hard. It was hard to have to explain things that seemed to obvious to him, almost as hard as it was to learn things about Takashi he never knew.

“Hey,” he said, noticing how Keith had shrunk in on himself, “I’ve got photo albums at my place. It mean, it was our granddad’s place but since he passed away it’s--it’s mine now. And there’s a bunch of pictures of me and Takashi from when we were kids.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. The only way to tell us apart in any of them is because of this.” Ryou tapped the beauty mark on his chin.

“Shiro had a mole, too. It was next to his--er.”

“Navel, right?” Ryou had one there too. “It’s okay, don’t be embarrassed.”

“I’m not!”

They reached Plaht City after dark and pulled up into the motel Ryou stayed at the last time he visited Keith. The bored omega receptionist at the front desk was flipping through a magazine on his data pad. He glanced up, did a double take, and straightened up, recognizing Ryou with a broad grin that fell slightly when he noticed Keith.

“Two beds?” he asked.

“Just one,” Keith said before Ryou could respond. He seemed to be genuinely oblivious to the receptionist’s dagger eyes.

The room was identical to the one Ryou stayed in before. Small and dingy, with a weird smell that lingered on the carpet, and a cramped leaky bathroom with the toilet crammed right in front of the small bowl sink.

Ryou set his bag on the nightstand, having learned his lesson from last time to not leave anything lying on the floor. “I can pay for two beds,” he said. Even though the bed looked like a double Ryou was doubtful they would both fit on it comfortably, given how broad he was.

“Well, I can’t,” Keith said shortly. “‘M gonna shower first.”

While Keith showered, Ryou stripped out of his grimy clothes and bundled them into a plastic bag. He winced at the sheer amount of dirt that had gotten under his shirt and pants, sticking into the crevices of his muscles. This was certainly not how he imagined life after grad school to go. He pulled on a fresh pair of boxers and sat on the edge of the bed, massaging his burning calves and gingerly stretching his poor feet.

Before long he heard the shower turn off and the squeak of wet feet on the tile. He was on the floor by then, in the middle of a supine leg stretch.

As the door opened he said, “Just a heads up that I kick around in my sleep, so watch--”

Keith stepped out with a towel around his waist another one obscuring his head as he rubbed it aggressively through his long hair. Water coursed down his chest and abs, over the incipient swell of a baby bump, every muscle glistening and rosy from the steam. Again Ryou was reminded of that stupid video he found on Takashi’s tablet, of the sounds Keith had made when he thought only Takashi would hear them, the way he called out his name. _Shiro, Shiro, Shiro._

Keith pulled the towel down from his head. “It’s all yours,” he said, slinging it over his shoulder. His dark locks still glistened in the lamplight. His eyes blinked open. “Something wrong?”

Ryou lay frozen on the floor, unable to tear his eyes away from Keith’s lower towel or his bare neck that the bright red omega collar once covered. He got up awkwardly, wishing suddenly that he hadn’t stripped down. He had never felt self conscious about his body like this before and things with Keith were awkward enough. “Fine. I’m fine. You can go to sleep. I’m fine.”

He shut the bathroom door behind him, locking himself in with the steam. With a hand towel he wiped off a section of the mirror and looked at himself. Grandpa always said Takashi took more after their mother and Ryou after their father, but he couldn’t see it. All he could see in his reflection was Takashi, and he wondered how long it would take before that was all Keith saw, too.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the chapter where the rating gets changed to Explicit

  


When Ryou first offered to pick Takashi up from his flight, his tablet was still functional and not run-over-by-his-coworker, and Takashi’s flight hadn’t been delayed, and everything was planned so they could have a nice birthday lunch together before spending the weekend hanging out. Instead, Ryou was on his third airport hashbrown of the afternoon with nothing else to occupy his time as he waited, and waited, and _waited_.

Takashi stopped replying to his texts over an hour ago, so Ryou couldn’t even kill time by being annoying. This was their first birthday without Grandpa and so far it was monumentally lousy. He was glumly contemplating a fourth hashbrown, figuring he had nothing else to lose, when his phone buzzed. Glancing up, he saw the tall silhouette of his brother in the crowd approaching him. He sprang to his feet, brushing the crumbs off his shirt as he jogged toward him.

The first time Takashi visited home after joining the Garrison, Ryou was aghast at how much muscle he’d packed on and had promptly sworn off hashbrowns for the rest of his life--or until the next time he got stress cravings. Every visit after that, Takashi seemed to just get bigger and broader, and this time was no different.

As they held their arms out to each other, Ryou braced himself and let Takashi sweep him up into the Iron Maiden of bearhugs.

“Hey, man!” Takashi said, laughing and crushing Ryou tighter. “It’s good to see you. Still doing crossfit?”

“You know it,” Ryou squeaked.

Takashi set him down and grinned. “I’m glad I’m finally here. Sorry to keep you waiting. Have you eaten yet?”

“Uh, nope. Didn’t want to ruin my appetite.” Ryou checked his watched. “Well, our reservation is out. We can still grab something before the dinner rush.”

He took the handle of Takashi’s wheeled luggage and led the way through the airport. While apart they texted each other maybe once or twice a week; it was nice to properly catch up, face-to-face. Ryou was just trying to juggle his thesis with his job and Takashi, what little he would say of what went on at the Garrison, was just doing space things like always, as if doing space things wasn’t incredibly cool.

After a late lunch they made their way back home. Their apartment was a snug two-bedroom with a tiny balcony that overlooked the city. Since Grandpa’s passing, Ryou kept his room as clean as possible without disturbing any of his things, wanting to keep his presence preserved for as long as possible.

It was hard to look around his bedroom now and wonder how he and Takashi managed to share it as kids, considering that now neither of them could walk through the doorway without ducking their heads down.

Takashi set his stuff down on the couch and looked around the living room. “Hasn’t changed a bit,” he observed. Ryou also hadn’t moved any of the photographs on the walls, some showing them as young children with both grandparents, some later ones from middle and high school. Takashi lingered in front of the picture from their high school graduation, showing their grandfather flanked on each side by a brother holding a diploma.

“He’d be proud of you, going into space,” Ryou said. Compared to his own thesis work, being an astronaut seemed a lot more exciting. “All the way to Pluto!”

“Kerberos. One of Pluto’s moons.”

“Eh, close enough.”

Takashi laughed. “Close enough doesn’t count when it comes to space travel.” He sat down beside Ryou on the couch and started rummaging through his bags. Frowning, he put the bag aside and went through his suitcase.

“Shit,” he said. “My snacks aren’t in here.”

“I’ve probably got some stashed in my room.”

Takashi made a face. For all their similarities, they had opposite taste in potato chips and there was never any compromise. “Nah, I’ll just run to the store. D’you want anything?”

“Get some snack cakes,” Ryou said as he settled in comfortably on the couch with the remote. “I’ll find us a movie to watch.”

Takashi pocketed the keys and headed out. And so Ryou spent even more of their birthday just waiting. He surfed through the channels for about half an hour. Finding nothing that caught his interest and with nothing else to do, he decided to go through Takashi’s stuff.

Takashi had a shit load of books, mostly about science and history, and his electronics tucked away into the suitcase under his clothes. There weren’t any souvenirs that Ryou could see. He pulled Takashi’s tablet out and woke it up, and was hit with a face full of the last thing he ever expected to see.

“Oh, fuck,” he whispered. The last window Takashi had opened was paused near the beginning of a video--a _webcam porn video_ , if the naked omega on screen was any indication. All Ryou’s senses said yes.

The omega was sitting back on his knees, his plump erection bouncing against the stretch of his lean abdomen. Around his neck was a red collar that looked well-loved by some lucky beta or alpha, judging by the teeth marks worried into its surface. Just like that, Ryou felt all the heat in his body rush to his groin, from a mixture of second-hand embarrassment to unmitigated alpha lust.

Fighting and losing a split-second battle with his self-conscience, he moved to his room and sat on the bed, tapping the play button. He told himself he just intended to watch enough to see if it would be worth searching for online later, when he had his own tablet again and there was no risk of Takashi kicking in the door before pummeling him with a six-pack of beer.

But then the omega parted his legs. Ryou had to bite down hard on his tongue to keep himself from groaning at the sight: he was in heat, and slick coated his firm inner thighs. A black plug stuffed into his small hole kept more from leaking out The plug quivered periodically in his body’s greedy hold, in time with the desperate stutter of his breath.

Shit. _Shit_. Ryou glanced to his bedroom door, then fumbled for his zipper. All thoughts of filing the video away for later were completely out the window. In the precious little time he had until Takashi came back, he needed to watch this.

The omega had a thin face and a small upturned nose, and large eyes that were almost indigo in color. He was pretty in an androgynous way, accented by how deep his breathy little noises were and the way his toned abs contracted and flexed with the movement of his hips. None of it looked staged, which just added to the mound of of guilt burning in Ryou.

Despite his size, nothing about him looked delicate. It was too easy for Ryou to imagine he could take more than a little roughness, would even beg for it as the pale flesh of his pert ass was smacked raw and red, redder even than his pretty little collar.

Ryou had never been with an omega in heat. He would give anything to be with this one, to bury himself in that long black hair, the crook of that thin neck, that tight slick ass. If only he could have a whiff of what must be a delectable heat-scent that a video could never hope to convey. A low whine escaped him as he palmed his cock through his boxers, pressing his thumb against the tip and only feeling more frustrated at what he couldn’t have.

The omega pulled on the plug slowly. His hole squeezed down in protest until he let go, and his body pulled it inside again. He repeated the teasing a few more times until, with a final sharp tug and a wet pop, it was free. A thread of slick stretched from his hole to the plug as he set it aside and shifted his position, careful to keep the slight gape in view, and circled the sloppy rim with two long fingers.

He reached for something out of the camera’s view. When he settled back against his pillow, Ryou saw it was a bright red dildo, perhaps three inches in circumference, four or five in length. At the base was a modest knot, and yet when the omega mouthed at it he could only just fit one side at the time. His cheeks rounded out adorably as he sucked and slurped.

The omega brushed back his long hair and opened his mouth wider. His tongue flicked out to meet the tip, licking up the shaft. The small dildo looked huge against his tongue. Ryou squeezed his cock, too beyond caring to be embarrassed at the sounds he was making in response. This video--this omega boy--was pure torture.

Once he was done, the omega grasped the dildo at the base just under the knot and nudged the tip against his leaking hole. He lifted himself up on his knees and lowered himself, faint _mm_ ’s and _aah_ ’s tumbling from his lips. The toy went in smoothly with a wet smack that made Ryou’s gut twist. The omega worked it in slowly, and looked straight at the camera with half-lidded eyes.

“So full,” he gasped when he’d taken in all of the shaft, stopping just before the knot. But how could he be, Ryou thought hazily, with just that pathetic little dildo inside him?

Ryou felt like he was bursting at the seams with desire, with the need to take the omega in his hands and give him a proper fucking with a proper alpha cock. After being mounted and knotted, the omega wouldn’t easily find pleasure with such a puny toy again, or on his own at all.

What would he say while gripping an alpha’s cock in hand and nudging it persistently against his tight, unmated hole? Would he grow upset when it had trouble fitting, or would it only spur on his determination to get it inside him?

Ryou could imagine the omega in his own lap. His thin hands gripping at Ryou’s shoulders or chest, the dizzying scent from his throat glands as he would rub his cheek against Ryou’s imploringly, his little mewls and gasps at the hard-earned breach of Ryou’s cock. _So full, alpha. More, give me more._

On screen the omega was setting a gentle pace, fucking into himself with a few strokes before pausing to adjust the angle of the toy. The slick made it hard for him to get a good grip, and when he finally managed to to ram it back in, he and Ryou gasped together.

Then, he rolled over on his front and wordlessly stuck his ass up in a classic presentation pose. Ryou felt pre-come slip over and around his fingers as he pushed his boxers down, freeing his cock, and quickened his own pace.

He couldn’t tell if the omega was trying to be a tease--when he finally managed to take the knot, he did so with a choked off cry. The dildo stayed snug inside him as he jutted his hips back toward the camera, absently stroking himself. He looked close to tears when he opened his eyes, looking at the camera again, and smiled before reaching back to tug at the toy again.

The knot stayed put, straining against his rim. Twisting on his side, the omega whined as he continued to tug, stroking himself desperately. He legs spread out, toes flexing, as a spasm wracked through his body.

His back arched, suspended for several moments as his orgasm tore through him. Then he crashed back down on his stomach, heaving.

“Shiro,” he moaned, rolling onto his back. He pressed down on his abdomen where the bulge of the toy was just visible. “A-aah, Shiro!”

Ryou heard himself snarl as he came, squeezing around his knot as it formed. From experience, he knew that without an omega in heat physically present it would subside quickly, within a minute or two. It didn’t stop him from coming all over both hands and his lap, every spurt leaving him more and more ruined and frenzied.

The tablet fell onto the covers beside his legs, muffling the omega’s continued whimpering as his body milked at the toy’s knot. Even with his head scrambled Ryou zeroed in on that voice like he was possessed, like it was the only tether he had as he lost himself in his own pleasure.

It frightened him.

He had never felt this kind of pull toward anyone before, not from any one he’d been with in the past and certainly not from any video he’d ever watched. In time, the blistering desire burned itself out and was snuffed out by a fresh surge of guilt. He was left out of breath and with come all over . . . everywhere. His legs felt like jelly as threw them over the side of the bed and stumbled to his bathroom.

A short, icy shower did nothing to calm his nerves. Normally sex left him feeling content, not like a deviant in his own bedroom. He toweled off quickly and yanked his sweatpants back on, hopping out of the bathroom with one leg caught.

And there stood Takashi in the doorway.

The plastic bag in his right hand fell loose, scattering two cans of soda and a bag of chips across the floor. His eyes were glued to where the tablet was on the bed, still playing the video. Neither of them spoke; the omega’s moans filled the silence. Then, he looked at Ryou.

His expression killed any thought Ryou had of trying to diffuse the situation. Simply finding porn on his tablet shouldn’t warrant such a cold, furious fire in his eyes or the rumbling half-snarl as he bared his teeth at Ryou in warning--the kind an alpha gave to another alpha, not to a brother.

He snatched up his tablet and was gone before Ryou could finish processing the aggressive display.

“Goddammit,” he muttered, wrestling his pants on before heading down the hall.

He found his brother on the balcony. As he stepped over the threshold he saw Takashi flipping through windows on his tablet, reorganizing files and setting a password for a folder.

“Er,” Ryou said. It wasn’t like they had never walked in on each other looking at porn before, so the awkwardness from that had been gone for years. And they took each other’s things without permission all the time. Growing up as twins blurred the distinction between what belonged to who. It caused plenty of fights, but none of them ever felt like . . . this. “Look, I wasn’t--that’s not what I was gonna use it for, I swear, that video was just _there_ and I--”

Takashi spared him a quick, dirty glower.

“Sorry,” Ryou peeped. He didn’t know what else to say.

An uncomfortable silence stretched out, then Takashi sighed. “Don’t worry about it. Just . . . promise me you won’t tell anyone.”

“ _What?_ I’m not gonna tell run around telling people I jerked off on your tablet, are you nuts?”

“I mean,” Takashi interrupted, “don’t tell them about Keith.”

Oh.

Oh no.

 _No_.

First: nothing killed the final buzz of jerking off like the realization that he’d jerked off to his brother’s _boyfriend_. His _omega_. And it all made sense--that display was just a base alpha instinct to protect what was his.

Then: _Takashi has a boyfriend._ There was no way Ryou could _not_ be obnoxious about this. ““Bro, you’re crazy if you think I’m going to let this slide.” Ryou slung an arm around his neck and brought him in for a Shirogane bearhug-noogie combo. “ _Oooh_ , Mr. Perfect Golden Boy _likes_ someone!”

Takashi elbow him away. Hard enough that it gave Ryou pause--he knew it was unfair to think he would be forgiven just like that--but not so hard that he thought it meant anything other than he’d succeeded in embarrassing his brother. Takashi was red in the ears as he switched his tablet off and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the balcony.

“I’m serious. Keith is . . .” He trailed off, pressing a hand to his mouth as he thought. “We . . . _I_ think it’s better to keep it quiet, at least for now. I think it’s what’s best for him.”

 _Why_? Ryou wondered. All he knew was that if he was with an omega like that, he’d be insufferable about it. Takashi was never one to brag about himself or his achievements, yet having a cute boyfriend seemed like something that was normal to be excited about.

“If you say so,” Ryou said. “Um, I really am sorry about earlier, by the way.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Takashi said airily. He thumped Ryou on the back. “So, are we watching that movie or what?”

  


\-----

  


Ryou let the hot water run until it began to turn cold. Dirt and grime from the desert pooled at his feet in the shower. He had managed to put the tablet incident behind him until the memorial and now he couldn’t get it out of his head. Keith’s scent was just like he’d imagined it, with a milky sweetness that had grown more prominent since the last time they saw each other.

Spending time in the desert let him see what Takashi saw, how determined Keith was. How lonely. He knew the last thing he would want if he were in Keith’s shoes was pity, but he couldn't help feeling even more grief from Takashi’s death, for Keith’s sake. They had both lost the one person who meant everything to them.

The water was frigid, the light was out, and Keith was asleep when Ryou finished showering. He eased himself into bed alongside him with an uncomfortable carefulness and laid awake for the next hour, staring up at the ceiling with his arms crossed over his chest, his mind racing with anxiety.

He was almost halfway asleep when Keith began to scream in pain.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone in my family passed away suddenly at the end of March this year, which is why I stopped updating this fic even though I was really excited about it. The events of this past week almost made me want to delete my fics altogether, but today I decided fuck it, I do what I want.
> 
> And what I want is omegaverse with a side helping of pining and a big dollop of UST!!  
>   
> 

Ryou fumbled for the light switch on the nightstand, not waiting for his eyes to adjust as he kicked the covers off. Beside him, Keith’s entire body jerked and spasmed in a convulsion. Tears and sweat streamed down his face, twisting in pain as his scream crashed into a whimper.

“Keith!”

Keith’s eyes met his for a second, then rolled back as another scream tore through him. His hands clawed at the mattress. Ryou grabbed one of his hands, expecting to feel him flushed with heat and instead finding that his skin was clammy and cold. His scent was chaotic, as deafening and panicked as his screaming, lashing out at all of Ryou’s senses with _terror_ and _help_.

Ryou felt frozen by indecision, not knowing what to do, afraid that his interference would only make things worse. He pressed his thumb into the scent gland on Keith’s wrist again and hoped that massaging it would do _something_ to help ease whatever was going on. 

“Keith, talk to me,” he said urgently, raising his voice as Keith’s screaming died down again into another whimpering fit, “Can you hear me? Do you need an ambulance?

After a while Keith’s trembling and whimpering did begin to subside. He was still breathing hard, his scent acrid from fear and pain. His mouth contorted soundlessly as he blinked. The awareness in his eyes returned suddenly, and he stared at Ryou in silence for a beat, then said in a cracked voice, “Bad dream.”

“Keith. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong. Has this happened before?”

Keith tried to pull his hand away weakly. Ryou held fast. Another weak spasm jerked through him.

“J-just once,” the omega choked out eventually, giving up. “A m-month after the launch. Just before the f-funeral.”

His limbs were still trembling so hard that when he made to sit up he was hardly able to support himself. Ryou helped, keeping a hand on his back. His eyes strayed to the wet matted mass of Keith’s hair, the sweat-drenched locks at the nape of his neck, and caught a glimpse of the mating claim.

The bond between a mated pair was empathic. He remembered as kids how their grandparents seemed so in tune with each other, how Grandpa knew even before the hospital called when Grandma passed away, how the grief manifested as a visceral, physical pain as much as an emotional one.

Ryou could hardly stand to think that this might be what Keith was going through. He swallowed his suggestion, and just wished that there was something he could do to make dealing with a broken bond easier.

“I’m f-fine,” Keith said shakily. “It just came and went last time. D-don’t worry about me.”

Ryou slid out of bed and got a cup of water that Keith only sipped at once before he huddled back under the sheets, facing the wall. 

_It’s okay, Keith. You’re not alone anymore_. Ryou was afraid to press too hard if Keith wanted to be left alone. Before he could think of something else to say, a knock sounded on the door.

“Shit.” Ryou knew what he was in for as he stumbled to answer it.

The omega receptionist from earlier took a step back, eyes taking in Ryou’s naked torso with surprise and appreciation before settling back into business mode.

“There’s been a complaint about the noise,” he said. “Please keep it down.”

“Right, we will. Sorry.” Ryou started to retreat back into the room, stopping when the clerk’s eyes narrowed and he leaned forward. “Yes?”

“Do I--? No, nevermind.” The clerk shook his head. “Good night. Mind the noise, please.”

Ryou bolted the door and shuffled back to bed, taking care to lower his weight slowly until he heard Keith snort.

“‘M fine,” Keith mumbled. “Just get some sleep.”

He pulled his half of the covers tighter around himself, balling up into a protective cocoon. Ryou turned the lights off and lay back down, knowing that he was definitely not going to get any sleep tonight. Instead he listened to Keith’s fitful breathing, on high alert for any sign of another impending fit.

Keith's scent was laced with his pain and fear for hours, even after he fell asleep. When dawn broke Ryou eased himself out of bed again to make a cup of coffee. The cheap, bitter taste did little to ease how utterly exhausted he was, and they still had two days of travel ahead of them. He woke Keith up gently, touching his slim shoulder before shaking him.

Keith looked like complete shit as he pulled himself out of bed. He glared when Ryou offered to help him dress; Ryou let him be, keeping an anxious eye when the omega’s back was turned.

“We can stop for painkillers if you need them,” Ryou said as he packed. “Anything you need, I can get it for you. Do you want to stop by that cafe before we hit the road? Get a hot drink?”

Keith nodded, rubbing at the front and sides of his throat. His scent glands were swollen, not to the extent they would be during heat, but still uncomfortable. Massaging someone’s scent glands along their wrists was one thing--touching the ones along the throat was entirely off limits here, as much as seeing an omega in obvious distress tugged at Ryou’s inner alpha to help.  


  


\-----

  
They walked to the cafe where they met for drinks the month before. This neighborhood of Plaht City was already bustling early in the morning, with historic tours and brunch spots in full swing. They sat in the courtyard after getting drinks, Keith nursing a paper cup of peppermint tea and a plain croissant, Ryou with an egg kolache and a shot of espresso strong enough to energize his entire graduating class at school.

He stayed hunkered over his breakfast, feeling paranoid that everyone around them remembered him from the last time he was here. The barista had given him a double take as she took his name for his order. Keith sipped at his tea, unbothered. The walk had restored color back to his pale cheeks and the gentle scent of peppermint mingled with his espresso, covering up the lingering distress from the night before.

“Feel better?” Ryou asked. The caffeine buzzed through him with an unpleasant aftertaste, heightening his anxiety. 

Keith nodded, setting his cup down. Ever since they sat down his right hand stayed pressed to his abdomen, perhaps from nausea or a protective reflex.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Keith said, tearing his croissant in half.

Ryou chose his next words carefully. “I think we should talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“A broken bond isn’t _nothing_ , Keith.”

“Nothing’s broken,” Keith said testily, violet eyes staring Ryou down coldly. His mouth set into a ugly scowl as he chewed on his croissant.

“Okay,” Ryou said, rubbing at his eyes. “Okay. I know I’ve been asking a lot of you lately, Keith. I’m just worried. I want this to work out.”

“. . . I know . . .”

“Let me tell you about me, then. Take the pressure off you for a second.” Ryou downed the rest of his espresso in a bitter gulp and wiped his mouth. “Hit me. Anything you wanna know about me or Takashi or whatever.”

Keith picked at the shredded remaining half of his food, silky bangs covering his face as he looked down at his cup, contemplating. The courtyard around them grew noisier, people talking over coffee or scraping back chairs across the stone as they came and went.

Keith asked, “Have you ever been with an omega before?”

Ryou almost choked on the hunk of sausage in his kolache. _Fuck’s sake_ , he thought, covering his mouth so it wouldn’t spray everywhere, _I should know better than to ask him stuff here_.

“What kind of question is that!?” he coughed, pounding his chest with his fist. “I thought you’d ask something like, what’s it like being twins? How did our parents tell us apart when we were born? For the record _he_ was the small one when we were babies.”

“Well that’s adorable, and also you said I could ask you what I want. So cough it up.”

Ryou slid down in his chair, scratching the underside of his chin. “If by ‘been with’ you mean dating, then no. Sex, yes. Just one. He was, uh . . .” He cleared his throat. “Why do you want to know this?”

“Did you live together?”

“Keith, this is all kinda--”

“Did you live together?” Keith repeated, eyes still burning into him implacably.

“Not long.”

His brief, tumultuous relationship with Sincline the previous year had been too buck-fucking-wild to condense into an impromptu q-and-a over brunch like this. Maybe Ryou would share the full story once he and Keith settled more comfortably into living together, but for now . . . for now, Sincline was still too fresh a wound, not yet scarred over enough so Ryou could touch upon it again.

“Were your parents alphas? Grandparents?”

“Our mom was. Dad was a beta like Grandpa and Grandma. What are you trying to get at, Keith?”

“I’m trying to get whether _you_ get what it’s like living in close quarters with an omega like me. At the Garrison we all took scent blockers so we wouldn’t fuck ourselves silly from being cooped up together.”

Ryou’s gaze dropped to the glass tabletop, heart thudding like he’d taken another shot of espresso. Had Keith noticed his strange reactions whenever he thought about the video?

“Do you wanna know how I got pregnant?”

“ _KEITH!_ ”

Ryou buried his head in his arms on the table, feeling as if the tips of his ears would burst into flame. He could never come back to this cafe again. He could never come back to Plaht City again, period.

Keith laughed, the sound scratchy from his sore throat. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Ryou. I’m trying to have a serious talk like you wanted, okay?”

Ryou picked his head up from the table and waited for him to continue, wary that he was just going to get hit with another dirty question.

Keith breathed in, then out carefully. “Ever since I presented I’ve had trouble with finding suppressants and and birth control and stuff that work for me, okay? The nurse at the Garrison had me try, like, half a dozen different things by the time I got expelled. Stuff would work for a while and then stop.”

“That happens sometimes.”

“Yeah, but for me it was just a non-stop cycle. It fucked with my heat and my pheromones and everything. Same for the scent blockers. That’s why I’m off of them right now.” He continued to shred the decimated remains of his croissant as he spoke, fingers moving anxiously of their own accord. “I just wanted you to know before we move in together. I was hoping you were used to being around omegas, but . . .”

“Sorry. My ex-girlfriend was also an alpha.”

“Girlfriend?”

“Yeah. I’m bi. That’s another difference between me and Takashi no one really cared to remember.” It came out bitter, like the dregs of his cold espresso. He pushed the black ceramic cup aside. “We broke up several years back.”

Romelle and Ryou were still friends. Their relationship and breakup had been much less chaotic than with Sincline. To be two alphas, they got along a little _too_ well, and when Romelle decided to study abroad their junior year of college in the hopes of finding some excitement, Ryou knew then it was the best step for their relationship. 

Guiltily he remembered all the unanswered phone calls and text messages he’d deleted, the numbers he’d blocked in the wake of the Kerberos disaster. She would be among the people he’d shut out during the past few months. He hadn’t been fair to her, he could see that now. At the time he was so afraid of letting in anyone who would make reality settle in. He had wanted to hide.

And instead he’d met Keith.

“Twenty questions are up,” he said. “Leave that helpless croissant alone and let’s get moving. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

Keith took another large swallow of his tea and crumpled the paper cup in his hand, tossing it in the trash as they moved through the cafe and back down the sidewalk to the motel. Ryou tossed his keys up in his hand as they walked.

“If you ever have another episode, what can I do to help?” Ryou said when they reached his car. 

Keith crawled in the passenger and lowered the seat, buckling himself in. “Nothing,” he repeated as the buckle clicked. “Absolutely nothing.”


End file.
